The Elevator (Continued)
by RaphaelplusMikey
Summary: You know that scary short story by William Sleator? You know how it ends at a terrible cliffhanger? Yeah, well SOMEBODY'S got to finish it... I'm pretty sure poor Martin hates me now. The poor kid. Rated T because of... Well, read and find out.


**So**** there's a short story called The Elevator by William Sleator. It's very creepy. Anyway, my Language Arts teacher gave us an assignment to 'finish' the story. The story is that type of story that cuts off right before something bed happens, leaving you hanging. A cliffhanger, as I'm sure you know. Except the entire ****_book _****stops there. The goal was to write an ending using writing techniques to create suspense. Not many people in my class did the assignment right, they all made nice happy endings with absolutely NO suspense. I on the other hand got up and read my story to the class, and had kids staring at me in awe. It was very awkward. Since I'm above me grade level in writing, everybody was all like **

**"Oh my gosh you're so talented!" **

**and I'm like "Thanks! But did I do ok? Did I mess up on anything?" **

**But everyone is SO amazed that nobody bothered to give me a ****_half decent_**** critique. I was rather annoyed. That's why I'm posting this! So I can have people tell me if my suspense writing needs work or not. So please PLEASE review.**

**Oh yeah, here's a brief summery of the book: It all starts when Martin's dad decides to move to a new apartment on the seventeenth floor. Martin has this one fear though and it is about the elevator. He starts to take the stairs everyday but his dad calls him timid so he tries out the elevator. His fear of the elevator gets worse. After an accident involving a strange, frightening fat lady in a green coat, he breaks his leg. His dad rides with him in the elevator back to the apartment, but gets out on the ninth floor to visit a friend. Martin tries to come too, but is forced to go the rest of the way alone. The lady gets on on the tenth floor. The last thing written, is that she says his name and laughs at him before pressing the stop button to the elevator.**

**If you want to read the actual story, just look up _The Elevator by William Sleator _on Google. **

* * *

"Hello Martin." She said and laughed. Then she pushed the Stop button.

My stomach dropped to the bottom of the shaft as my lungs jerked to a stop in sync with the elevator.

She continued staring at me as she smiled. Was it my imagination or was that grin getting even _wider_? Were her teeth turning into points, or was I hallucinating?

I sucked in a breath, it was too forced to be called a gasp, and pushed myself against the wall. My jaw worked for a minute as I tried to say something, and she continued staring. My eyes widened as her pupils expanded to fill her eyes, turning them into black, empty orbs.

"Do you know what I am Martin?" She asked me in a deceptively sweet voice. It wasn't my imagination. Her teeth were sharp and pointed, and her grin was a perfect replica of the Chesire cat.

I shook my head slowly, not daring to take my eyes off of her. I was vaguely aware of the pounding in my leg as the painkillers wore off, and the trickle of sweat making its way down the back of my neck.

"I aM A DemON." She said. Her voice no longer exited from her mouth, that horrid, fanged mouth. It now seemed to erupt from all around me. It echoed massively and sounded _empty. _Empty of everything except a sick glee. "A SPecIaL KinD oF deMOn tOo. YOu sHOulD Be hOnOReD thAt YoU ShALl bE My NeXT mEAl."

A scream ripped its way from my throat as she took a step forwards. In the tiny cubicle that small, predatory step left her right on top of me.

Sadly for her, that also put her head right near mine. Looking back, I think that she had super sensitive hearing, because once that scream had torn itself from me she retracted her step.

She flung herself at the other side of the elevator, clutching at the side of her head with her pudgy hands. Her huge bulk managed to push a few buttons at the same time, causing the elevator to jerk to life again.

She roared foul words in some strange language as she shook. I had continued screaming, and took no more then a second to take a breath and keep going.

She feel backwards as the elevator doors opened. I yelled and hollered as I used my crutches to pole-vault _over _her fat body and into the open hallway. I stopped at the opposing wall and began banging on doors, still making as much noise as possible.

I turned around to give her a victorious smirk when there was a muffled shout and stumbling from inside the apartment.

The breath was stolen from my lungs when she was RIGHT THERE in front of me. She snarled, _snarled, _viciously at me as I froze in shock.

"YoU'lL REgREt DOinG ThAT." Was the last thing I heard.

Asylum For the Mentally Unstable Youth

Report:

Subject refuses to take prescriptions without force. He continues to have random panic attacks, and will not stand being in an enclosed space or close contact with others. Continues to rant about the elevator where he was found passed out. His words often include such phrases as 'should have taken the stairs', 'she's waiting, she's waiting', and 'she'll find me'. It is still unclear whether this 'she' is fiction or an actual person. His drawings focus on two images.

The two are almost exactly alike, an obese woman in a green coat. The only differences are in one she has blue eyes and is smiling. In the other, her eyes are pure black and the smile is dimensionally incorrect.

The teeth are also points.

* * *

**I actually creeped myself out while writing this.**


End file.
